Shadows of Love
by InfinityStar
Summary: When you marry one man, but love another, unexpected things can happen, especially if you never plan for it. A missing scene from Choices.


**A/N: This one is for flightRN, who asked for it. It's a missing scene from Choices and fits into chapter 7: Just Right. It's the night he can't remember, the night Maggie was conceived. It is more detailed than I usually write, just by nature of the story itself, but not graphically so. It should fit fine into the 'T' rating. I hope you all agree. I also hope you enjoy it. **

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Where love rules, there is no will to power; and where power predominates, there love is lacking. The one is the shadow of the other.  
---Carl Jung

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_The third time she interfered with his shot, he slammed down the cue stick and chased her down, catching her on the far side of the table, near the cue rack. He backed her against the wall and trapped her there. "Are you going to let me take this shot?" he asked._

_She was laughing too hard to answer, so he waited. Finally catching her breath, she looked into his face. "You can take your shot anytime," she answered innocently._

_He hesitated for a moment before he leaned closer and kissed her. Surprised, she raised a hand and gently laid it on his cheek, allowing his kiss. He smiled before turning back to the table. He missed the shot anyway._

He had no idea what had possessed him to do that and he was just as confused that she had allowed it. He still felt fairly overwhelmed, but not in a bad way. He found himself wondering how she felt as he watched Logan line up his shot.

Barek sat on the stool beside Eames near the cuestick rack. "What happened over there?"

"I'm not sure. He's never done that before."

"He's not drunk yet."

"No, he's not."

She watched as he missed his shot and Logan laughed at him. He grinned back at him, laughing at whatever Logan said to him. He picked up a shot of amber liquid as Logan went to the table. Downing the scotch, he set the empty glass on the bar and looked across the table at his partner. She smiled at him, and he smiled back. Barek leaned toward her. "What are you thinking?"

Eames sighed. "Carolyn, the only time I'm happy lately is when I'm with you guys...when I'm with him. He makes me laugh and I feel good about myself again when I'm with him. I think I made a terrible mistake. I married the wrong guy."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know. Maybe Ricky will come around. I'll give him a little more time."

"And if he doesn't?"

She sighed and looked across the table, where Goren was laughing at Logan for missing an easy shot. Logan gave him a playful punch to the belly and Goren returned it. She smiled at them, shrugging her shoulders in response to Barek's question. "I don't know."

Barek gently squeezed her arm and headed to the table to take her turn.

Logan downed his shot of Jack Daniels and nudged Goren. "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why'd you kiss her, man?"

Goren was quiet, watching Barek sink her shot. "I wanted to," he said softly.

"And she let you. What does that tell you?"

Goren shifted uncomfortably. "Shut up, Logan."

He stepped away from his friend and walked around the table to where Eames was sitting. "Eames..." he began.

"Shut up and sit down, Goren."

"But I..."

"No. I don't want to hear it. Just sit down."

He sat on the stool beside her. "What don't you want to hear?"

"Any sort of apology for anything, that's what. You're fine, Bobby. You haven't done anything wrong."

"Um...oh. Okay."

He fell silent, watching Barek sink another ball. Eames leaned closer, resting her hand against the back of his shoulder. "She's almost as good as you are."

"So are you. Mike's good, and with practice he's getting better."

She left her hand on his shoulder. Barek missed her next shot and joined her partner at the bar, downing her shot, which was vodka. Eames brought her hand up to gently caress the back of his neck before she slid from her stool, grabbed her cuestick and stepped up to the table.

He had closed his eyes when her fingers touched his neck. He opened them slowly, willing his body to settle down. When he looked toward her, she was leaning over the table to make her shot and he almost regretted opening his eyes. Almost, but not quite. He sighed heavily and watched her. _Shit_. Today was his birthday and he had downed enough shots that he was starting not to care if she was married or not. It wasn't going to hurt a damn soul if he watched her...not a one...none but his.

It was his shot after she missed and he slid off the stool and grabbed his cuestick as she took her shot of rum. When he turned toward the table, she was right there. He looked down at her, holding her gaze. He couldn't help the soft smile that touched his mouth and his eyes. The fingers of her right hand lightly caressed the back of his left hand. His eyes slid half-closed. "Eames..."

She raised her hand to touch his lips. "Just relax and have fun, tonight, ok? Don't be uptight. Just relax."

Her fingers continued along his jaw before they fell away and she moved past him to sit on her stool. He stepped up to the table and studied the balls while he willed his hands to stop shaking.

Logan leaned toward Barek. "What's she up to?"

"She just wants him to relax and enjoy being with her."

"And she thinks she's gonna get somewhere by torturing him?"

"He'll relax."

"Carolyn, he loves her but he can never be with her. Why's she teasing him?"

"Who says never, Mike?"

"He does. He's not going to let her step away from her vows. He's incredibly stubborn that way."

"Let her worry about that."

"Yeah, sure. And when today's over and everything goes back to normal, who's left to deal with him? Me, that's who."

"Oh, just chill out. This is between them."

"Until he drags my ass into it. You have no idea what he's like, Carolyn. Trust me. He can be a real pain in the ass."

"And so can you, Logan. Leave them alone."

"Fine for you to say," he muttered under his breath. But against his better judgment, he did as she asked.

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Logan stepped up to Goren's side while Eames was lining up a shot two games later. "Hey, man. How are you doing?'

Goren was quiet as he watched her lean over the table, tipping his head to the side for a better view. "I'm okay."

Logan grabbed his arm to steady him. "You look like I feel. You sure you're okay? I've never seen you miss so many shots."

"I, um, I have other things to think about."

Logan smiled, looking toward the table at Eames. Maybe this wouldn't be the disaster he predicted. "You having a good time with her?"

He looked back at Goren, who hadn't taken his eyes from her. "Yeah," he said softly. In fact, the more he had to drink, the easier it was to pretend things were different.

"So you're not gonna freak out on me tomorrow?"

"I'm fine, Mike."

"Okay, if you say so. It's your shot now."

He watched Goren get off the stool, a little unsteady. He smiled and grabbed his arm. "Maybe this should be our last game." He was learning to get while the getting was good, and he wanted to leave while his friend could still walk. It was never fun trying to negotiate their way home when one of them couldn't.

He waved Logan off and started toward the table, stopping to come back for his cuestick. "Yeah, you're fine," Logan said.

Goren laughed and Logan walked back over to the bar, watching as Eames placed a hand on her partner's stomach and leaned in to talk to him. He relaxed a little when Goren slid his arm around her with a smile and laughed. Barek pressed a shot glass into his hand. "You missed one."

"I did not."

"Yes, you did. Now drink it and chill the hell out."

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They left the bar shortly before it closed. Once again, Logan was grateful he lived so close. Neither of the women realized how drunk Goren was, but Logan knew him. He'd been drinking with him long enough to know, and he was always amazed at how much he could put away and still function in a reasonable manner. The difference tonight, however, was Eames. He wasn't sullen or brooding. He was actually smiling and being charming, which Eames was taking full advantage of. Barek gave him a smug grin. "I told you they'd be fine."

"Never tell me 'I told you so'. You know better."

"Well, I did."

He watched them as Goren leaned toward her to say something and lost his balance. She grabbed him and righted him, laughing as he slid his arm around her and kissed her temple. She leaned in to his embrace as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As happy as Logan was to see them like that, he knew Goren well enough to know what tomorrow was going to be like, and he wasn't happy about _that_ at all.

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Logan and Barek went into the kitchen, where he pulled out a container of chocolate milk. "Well, that could have been worse."

"You're such a pessimist."

"You don't know him like I do." He held up the container. "Nothing better to settle the stomach."

"You're such an oddball, Logan. Plain milk works better."

"But chocolate milk _tastes_ better. Want a glass?"

"Sure, why not?"

In the living room, Goren dropped onto the couch, where he slept when he stayed there, which was a lot more often than Eames knew. She sat beside him. "Did you have a good day?"

He smiled and nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He still had enough control to know if he opened his mouth he would say something monumentally stupid, so he kept quiet. His brain was geared toward keeping himself in check but there was one thing he had not counted on at all, and that was her. Before he could register what she was doing, she had leaned up and lightly touched her lips to his. A sweet kiss and a whispered 'happy birthday'. He closed his eyes, expecting her to move away, but she didn't. Her mouth covered his again, more pressure, and then the tip of her tongue flicked over his lips.

That was it. He groaned softly, pulling her against him, deepening the kiss and parting his lips for her. He wasn't thinking; he was just responding...and it felt great. He slid his hand under her shirt onto the bare skin of her back, and it was her turn to groan.

Logan came out of the kitchen and stopped dead. Barek ran into him and slopped chocolate milk onto the back of his shirt. "Hey!"

"Sorry. What'd you stop for?"

"Look."

She looked past him and smiled, but Logan swore. This was a disaster in the making and there was nothing he could do to head it off. He hated damage control. "Come on," he said with a sigh. "They can have the bedroom. Let's get 'em back there before it's too late."

It wasn't difficult to convince them to go to the bedroom. Logan closed the door and leaned his forehead against it. "Happy birthday, buddy," he whispered. To Barek, he said, "Hopefully, he'll fall asleep before anything happens."

"Why do you say that?'

"Have you even met the guy? He's got this guilt complex that would love the shit out of this."

"Let her handle him."

"That's what led us here, remember?" He waved a hand in the air. "I'm too damn drunk to argue with you, Barek. But I will admit, this is the first time he's ever had to outdrink me." He laughed. "I liked _that_."

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Once the bedroom door closed, he pulled her close. He'd had far too much to drink to care about anything but having her in his arms. He kissed her and the room tilted and spun, but he didn't care about that either. Gently he grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it up over her head. In return, she toyed with the buttons of his shirt, slipping each one free of its hole with agonizing slowness. Chomping at the bit, trembling each time her fingers brushed his bare skin, he nevertheless let her set the pace. Soon his shirt joined hers on the floor.

She gently pushed him backwards until the backs of his legs hit the bed and he sat down. _Much better_, she thought, claiming his mouth with hers, pushing her tongue past his lips. He responded in kind, his hands tracing their way around her torso. She let her hands roam as well and he gasped, surprised at the fire that ignited beneath her fingers.

His fingers made quick work of the clasp on her bra. She moaned deeply, arching toward him as his thumbs slid over her nipples, caressing, teasing. He kissed her chest, moving up to nuzzle her neck, and he softly muttered, "I love you."

A tear slid from her eye and trailed over her cheek. He did love her; she had no doubt of that. He never said the words, but the love came through clearly in everything he ever did for her. What the hell was she doing? "Bobby, stop."

"Hm?"

"Stop. Please." He pulled back and looked at her quizzically. She had started this. "I love you, too," she whispered. "And I can't do this to you. I'm sorry."

She pulled away from him and went to the window. Crossing her arms over her bare chest, she looked out into the alley where a stray cat ran in hot pusuit after a rat half its size. She fully expected him to lay down on the bed, roll over in frustration and withdraw. Once he had passed out, she would return to him and lay beside him to hold him and sleep against his warm body. That was all she could give him. She jumped when his arms came around her and he nuzzled her neck again. His breath warm against her neck, he whispered, "Whatever you want, baby."

She couldn't stop the tears that spilled over from her eyes. "Oh, Bobby...why the hell did you have to say that?"

She didn't have to look at him to sense his confusion. "What?"

She turned in his arms. Why couldn't he have just laid down and gone to sleep, like she'd expected him to? But then again, when did this man _ever_ do what she expected? She turned her face back up toward his and let him kiss her. Pulling back, she said, "No regrets, Goren. You got me? Don't you dare feel guilty about this or I swear I'll mop the floor with you."

"No regrets," he murmured, kissing her again.

She wasn't sure she believed him, but another kiss and she didn't care. She pushed her body against his and he yielded, back to the bed. At the last second, he moved out of the way and she fell back onto the bed, laughing. He laughed with her as he stretched out beside her. Smiling, his hand roamed over her chest, teasing first one nipple, then the other. She rolled toward him, kissing his chest, moving her head down to trace circles around his nipples with her tongue, stopping to gently nip each one. Her hands travelled to his belt, which she quickly undid, followed by the button and zipper on his jeans. He followed her lead, undoing her jeans in a moment. In no time, the jeans joined their shirts on the floor.

His hands gently, slowly traced the contours of her body. His carefully measured system of moral checks and balances went on hiatus, pushed away by too much alcohol and the long-denied lust for his partner that was now demanding to be sated. With nothing to contain it, it consumed him like a raging fire devours dry timber.

Not nearly as drunk as he was, she was simply desperate to be with a man who demanded nothing of her, one who loved her wholly for herself and for no other reason...a man with no desire to control her, whose only desire was to love her, body and soul. She had not known anything like that since her first husband died...and now, finally, she knew it again. But with Bobby, even that was different. His kisses drew a response from her that she never knew she had, fueled by the path of his hands from her breasts, along her sides and across her waist. One hand returned to her breasts while the other strayed in the opposite direction as his mouth claimed hers again. She gasped when his hand reached its destination, biting down gently on his lower lip, eliciting a husky chuckle from him. She closed her eyes, responding in kind to his ministrations by sliding her hand into his boxers. He moaned deeply, pushing his hips toward her.

His brain had shut down, but his autopilot was an experienced master. What he didn't expect was for his emotions to kick into overdrive. He was so used to his emotions turning off, he had no idea what to do with himself. So he trusted himself to her.

After letting him bring her to the edge and then back several times, she growled impatiently, slipping his boxers off with her own underwear, and slid her body on top of his. He gasped when she settled onto him, struggling mightily to hold on for just a little while longer. She sensed that and stopped moving, resting her upper body against his chest where she listened to the pounding staccato of his heart. As his breathing and his heart rate slowed, she knew it was okay to continue. She began to move and he caught his breath again. She leaned down and kissed him, deepening the kiss as she quickened her pace. Beneath her, his body moved in sync with hers, making the right contact, providing the right friction to bring them both to the edge, and beyond, in an explosion of convulsive ecstacy. With a deep moan, he shuddered beneath her as she arched her back and thrust her body down hard on his.

She collapsed on top of him. His arms encircled her, holding her close, wanting desperately to never let her go. His fingertips gently traced a path over her sweat-covered back, drawing a shudder from her. "I love you," he whispered again.

The scent of his breath reminded her of his condition and she wondered briefly: if he could do this to her drunk, what would he do to her sober? The answer was simple: he would kill her, that's what. _Ah, but what a way to go,_ she thought with a smile.

"I know you do," she answered. "And I love you, too."

Gently, she rolled off him, coaxing him onto the pillows and pulling the sheet up over them. He snuggled up against her, holding her close, and he was asleep. She held him, lightly caressing his skin as he snored softly. She only knew him to snore when he was drunk and another pang of guilt hit her. She had so taken advantage of him, though he would never see it that way. He would think exactly the opposite, no matter how vehemently she disagreed. But she knew that if he had been sober, he would never have allowed this to happen. No, his inhibitions and defenses were gone, and she had taken full advantage of his vulnerability. But her regret quickly vanished with the memory of what had transpired between them. How could she regret something she had wanted, had needed, so badly? The truth was she didn't regret it. What she regretted was the response he would have to it come morning. She did not regret loving her partner. She _did_ regret the pain that caused him. But she was trapped between two men: the man she married and the man she loved. Unfortunately, she realized too late that neither man was both. But she had made a commitment to Ricky that she had never made to Bobby, and she owed him the chance to make that work. She couldn't allow her feelings for her partner to compromise her marriage, in spite of what had just happened. Perhaps it had been a mistake, but she honestly did not feel that it was. She felt..._really_ good, so it couldn't be all bad. Could it?

She lightly kissed his lips, eliciting a groan and gentle pressure in return but he didn't waken. Sliding from the bed, she dressed, tucked the sheet around his chest and gently kissed him again. "I love you, Bobby," she whispered, and she left the room.

Logan was sound asleep on the couch. Barek, who had ended up drinking the least of them all, was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee. Eames smiled at her. "Can't sleep?"

Barek smiled back. "Not with him snoring like that. What are you doing up?"

"I...need to go; I can't stay."

"Why? What happened?"

"How drunk do you think he was?"

"A lot more than he seemed, according to his drinking buddy there."

"If I'm not there when he wakes up, maybe he'll think it was all a dream, and that will spare him a lot of grief."

Barek nodded in agreement. She was right. "Let's go to my place. It's not too far."

"Thanks, Carolyn."

Barek got up, set her cup in the sink and grabbed her purse. Stopping to give her partner an affectionate kiss on the forehead, she ran her fingers through his hair and smiled. Taking her keys out, she followed Eames from the apartment. The sliding deadbolt clicked and Logan slept on.


End file.
